


A Pirate's Pet

by learninghowtosmut



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Collars, Dirty Talk, Face-Fucking, Fluff and Smut, Light Bondage, Light Masochism, M/M, Master/Pet, Pirates, Princes & Princesses, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-25
Updated: 2018-05-25
Packaged: 2019-05-13 17:26:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14753166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/learninghowtosmut/pseuds/learninghowtosmut
Summary: Prince Lovino has fallen into a Pirate's lap - and his heart. Only thing is, he can be a bit of a brat. And he takes every opportunity to be one, given that the supposed "punishment" he gets isn't any kind of deterrent.





	A Pirate's Pet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [romanope](https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanope/gifts).



He’s never felt further from royalty than he has on this ship. Lovino is alternately a pampered pet and a fucked-out _mess_ , and he loves it. Right now, lying on the bed with a hand in his hair and bite-sized treats being fed to him, it’s definitely the former. His lover’s thumb pushes apart his lips, and when his tongue darts out to lick it, the taste of honey spreads out in his mouth.  
  
“I wonder how you’d look all tied up…” Antonio murmurs to himself, going to dip his thumb in the honey again. He drizzles a few thin trails over his lips and bends to kiss them away.  
  
“No fucking way,” Lovino replies lazily. He lifts his hand and twines his fingers into his long hair before pulling him down for another kiss. This time, he makes it rougher. It isn’t that he’s not happy to submit to Antonio’s control, but he’s damn well going to make him work for it.

“Ah, so rude of you, mi tesoro,” he purrs, pulling his head away and catching his wrist. “You’re not the Prince of the Two Sicilies here, though, remember? You’re just a pirate’s pet, and I can do what I want with you.”

Lovino squeezes his thighs together, trying to restrain his reaction. Fuck, but that voice _does things_ to him and the bastard knows it. “Go fuck yourself - I’m not anyone’s pet.”

He ignores him completely. “Are you going to be good for your master?” It’s not a question, they both know how it goes. It’s been the same every time and this is going to be no different.

“I’m not your damn pet,” he growls again, meeting Antonio’s eyes in a silent challenge. His lips twitch into a cocky smirk and he’s just _daring_ him to prove him wrong. He’s only wearing an old shirt of Antonio’s, so it’s no surprise to him when it’s torn apart on his body. This isn’t the first shirt lost in such a way, and it certainly won’t be the last.

What _does_ surprise him is having his arms twisted above his head, tied almost painfully tightly together by the sleeve. He yelps and tries to free them, but Antonio has had a lifetime of tying knots. There’s enough give to keep most of the blood flowing, but there’s no way he can move. Then the other sleeve binds them to the elaborate headboard and he’s pinned there, unable to move away.  
  
“You’re wrong, you see?” Hot breath puffs against his ear with that purr and he shivers as his lover’s lips move down to torment his neck a little. “You’re mine, my lovely little slut.” A bite punctuates the end and elicits a delicious gasp. “Remind me what we did with your collar, now?”

The collar. Lovino hates it as much as he loves it. When he wears it, he can feel how that simple pressure around his neck drains away all the authority he’s been taught to have, leaving a needy whore where there had previously been a regal prince. He presses his lips together, wanting it on and wanting it to stay hidden away with equal strength.  
  
“Go - go fuck yourself!” he repeats, trying not to let his voice waver in the slightest. That way lies a fast and easy defeat, and that’s not what he wants. Oh no, Lovino never wants to do things the easy way, and it would only make Antonio suspicious if he _did_.

“Why would I do that when I have you here, Lovinito~?” he coos, lightly tapping Lovino’s cheek with an open palm. “And I think I remember where I put it. Be patient for me, gatito. I’ll be right back.”

Before he knows it, he can feel it settling around his neck. He licks his lips, anticipation thrumming through his body.

“You look so pretty with that around your lovely neck, Lovinito. Just like a cute little kitten.”

“I’m _not_ a-”

A hand closes around his neck. Not hard. It doesn’t constrict his breathing. It’s not meant to. All it does is remind him of his position. When he closes his mouth, it goes away. His stomach tightens with arousal.

He hears fabric hitting the rough floorboards, and he looks up to _appreciate_ his lover’s body. With a playful little smirk, he lets his thighs fall apart just enough to tease, to let Antonio see _everything_ , and to see just how much he wants him.

Rough hands trail up the inside of his legs, caressing them in silent worship. Chapped lips flutter light kisses over the most sensitive areas, dropping in a little bite here and there. He pushes his thighs up, thumbs pressing deep into the soft flesh. When his hands move, the prints remain in stark white before the blood rushes back. “If you let your legs drop, it won’t go well for you,” he instructs him, deciding to drag another slow white line along the soft, plump curve. It’s addictive to watch.

Lovino is tempted, so tempted, to let them fall back down onto the bed. Some days he wants their lovemaking to be just that, and to be slow and filled with as much affection and pampering as the rest of their time together. This, however,  is not one of those days. So he lets his legs drop, lifting his head to shoot Antonio a challenging smirk.

A vicious slap rings through the cabin. The imprint of his hand glows a bright red on Lovino’s thigh. The prince yelps in pain.

“You little _brat_ ,” he growls. “Looks like you’re not even good enough to be a whore, right? _They_ at least know how to follow orders. Do I need to teach you your manners again? Huh?” He pinches his inner thigh, slowly twisting it until Lovino yelps again. When he lets go, he presses down on Lovino’s cock, swollen and red. He hisses at the touch. “Even that turns you on, huh? You’re just a slut, aren’t you? No better than a bitch in heat.”

The prince bites his lip hard and completely fails in his attempt not to grind up into his hand. Fuck, fuck, _fuck!_ He pulls at the shirt around his wrists and feels a throb of need go through him as it cuts into his skin - he damns himself for being such a masochist.

“ _Answer me_.”

“ _Fuck you!”_

Another harsh slap to his thigh. His breath hitches. He needs _more_.

“You know what? I’m gonna put your filthy mouth to a better use.” The mattress dips with his movement as he shuffles up. When he’s settled, he’s got his knees on either side of Lovino’s body, cock jutting out to brush against his face. “Open up, slut.” The hand in his hair has a gentleness that belies the roughness of his words; the fingertips rub light circles into his skin, a tiny gesture that speaks volumes.

He opens his mouth, bobs his head forwards to take it all in, but the binding around his wrists keeps him too far away. The salty taste is heavy on his tongue, his lover’s musk is thick in his nose. He swallows, but a thin trail of drool still seeps out past his lips. He strains a few times again to take more of Antonio’s cock all the way down, but he can’t reach. At the sound of amused chuckles coming from above his head, he moves as far as he can with the weight of him still on his tongue and _glares_.

“Aww, take that look off your face, gatito. I just felt like doing something different today.” The bastard curls his fingers into Lovino’s hair and slowly, oh so slowly, pushes inside his mouth. He doesn’t stop until Lovino’s nose is buried in his hair. After a couple of these gentle thrusts, he speeds up and goes harder until he’s fucking Lovino’s face like his life depends on it. He pulls sharply on his hair with each thrust, and it doesn’t feel good in the same way as the slaps, but it still feels _good_ and he’s making muffled noises around Antonio’s cock and he feels like he’s about to _burst_.

Lovino leans forwards and tries to follow when he pulls out, mouth gaping for more. The hand in his hair pulls his head back and there’s a hot splatter all over his face with a reverent murmur of his name from above. After a moment, Antonio leans forwards and frees one wrist.

“You look so pretty, all covered in my come,” he breathes in his ear. “Now, Lovinito, show me how much you enjoyed yourself, hm?”

It takes a couple of heartbeats to realise what he means and Lovino scoops some of it off his face, using it to ease the way so he can press his fingers deep inside himself. His eyes close at the feeling and he barely registers the weight on the mattress shifting when Antonio moves away. He pushes his legs apart as wide as they’ll go, puts on a show for him. His moans are shameless and he lets a litany of cursing drop from his lips, interspersed with Antonio’s name. Lovino only brushes against his sweet spot a few times before he comes.

Antonio frees the other wrist, dropping the shirt to the floor. He kisses him tenderly and holds both wrists in his hands, gently rubbing away any soreness.

“You’re beautiful, so beautiful, mi gatito, mi principe, mi amor. Come on, let me clean you up, little kitten,” he murmurs.

A soft damp rag wipes over his body. He’s blinking and trying to keep his eyes on Antonio the whole time, even when he’s cleaning up his face and passing it gently over his eyes. When he steps away to put it somewhere, a little pathetic whine passes his lips.

“I’m right here!” He hurries back and slips in next to him, wrapping him up safe and warm and secure in his arms.


End file.
